Ah the kakariki takitahi, a force that once breathed minty nicotine into the lungs of breathas and sheathas alike. But no more, for its reign hath come to a halt. Before the eve of June 17th there was a time when you couldn’t walk down George Street on a Saturday night without seeing the bright green nic-stick in someone's hand. In a devastating end to exam season, mint solos (and all their dispo cousins) have been banned from the public eye entirely.
The Smokefree Environments and Regulated Products Amendment Bill (No 2) was passed in December of 2024 and gave businesses six months to commence the disposable vape ban and comply with new retail visibility requirements. This included ensuring vape products were not visible from outside or within their store from wherever the public can access, as well as from online stores entirely. Failure to comply would risk a penalty of $400,000 for manufacturers, importers and large retailers, and $50,000 for any other person. Turns out a green solo is worth a lot more than Critic Te Ārohi may have previously stipulated (RIP The Green Solo Alternative, Issue 1).
So, what does the student body have to say about this? Does anyone even really give a shit? Cue Critic. Third-year student Te Awhirēinga told Critic that the banning of disposable vapes “may not be as convenient, but like, neither is trashing the planet” (bars, girl). The environmental argument was strong from the random selection of interviewees on campus, with second-year Psych major Reuben commenting he already doesn’t like vaping, saying, “It’s terrible and so bad for the environment.” This will certainly cause a decline in green solo mortality via drunken stomping. But who knows, maybe flattened lithium-ion batteries will be the new pavement-Picasso work. Hopefully not.
However, no one seemed to think that the ban will do much to prevent youth from accessing vapes. Another third-year student, Kate, reckons that preventing access to disposables won’t solve the problem when reusable ones are still available. She stated simply, yet wisely, “If you’re gonna vape, you’re gonna vape.” The average 1000-puff solo was about $10 from your nearest Night ‘n Day; a reusable vape with a rechargeable battery, charger, and flavour pod can be purchased for about the same price. “It will just make people more resourceful with getting their vapes,” Te Awhirēinga added.
The majority seemed to think the likelihood of long-term commitment to vaping will only increase now that there is no other alternative. Although, it does remove the convenience of popping into Night ‘n Day for a midnight mish now that the only nicotine option is cigarettes with images of popcorn lung on the front. Some mused that people may make a reluctant return to the slushy machines for their fix. Not everyone agreed, though. Second year dental tech major Lauren said to Critic, “If you’re going to vape, at least commit to it.” And well, now there ain’t much choice.
It remains to be seen what the future holds for the lungs of the youth, especially with such lack-luster education on the long term effects of vaping. Studentville will undoubtedly bounce back from this development, with a certifiable track record in making do in trying times (like running out of cash before pay day and living off noodle sandwiches). For now, students’ beloved dispo-solos have disappeared into a cloud of (mint-flavoured) smoke, never to be seen again.